by Luxman Aravind
Sri Lanka is currently witnessing seismic political upheavals, marking the end of an era characterised by rampant corruption, unchecked excess, and escalating social unrest. The calm that has now emerged is a mere facade. Recent revelations from the Presidential Media Division—curiously headed by a medical doctor—regarding the ostentatious flaunting of super-luxury vehicles by politicians and advisors close to former President Ranil Wickremesinghe have sent shockwaves through the public. Outrage against the old guard is mounting, starkly exposing the grotesque chasm between a privileged ruling class and the suffering masses. This is revolution, as ordinary citizens boldly proclaim.
These outrageous displays of wealth amid widespread economic despair have become the defining symbol of a morally bankrupt elite—an insufferable cabal of sycophants and opportunists. Such excess is further igniting the flames of disillusionment and fury within society. A new era, one that stands against the decay of the old regime, has begun to unfurl; but how genuine is this transformation? Are we merely witnessing a puppet show orchestrated by external interests? The outgoing US Ambassador has been intricately involved with the new President’s political office and the installed Prime Minister’s network for years. Is this a well-scripted drama that may soon explode with nationalist sentiment? Sooner or later, the façade will crumble, revealing the sinister strings being pulled behind the scenes.
The broader global historical context provides crucial lessons for Sri Lanka. Many societies throughout history have experienced similar moments of political flux, when ruling classes—disconnected from the lived reality of their people—pushed their societies to the brink. In France, Russia, China, and even Iraq, these goons were ridiculed and vilified before their eventual downfall, only for the aftermath to spiral into chaos, authoritarianism, or worse. For Sri Lanka, the challenge lies in navigating these turbulent waters without repeating the mistakes of the past. The time has come for the nation to reflect on these historical precedents to avert similar tragedies.
The ongoing controversies in Sri Lanka evoke memories of historical moments when excesses and discontent sparked revolutionary fervour. One of the most striking examples is the French Revolution, which began in 1789. France, under King Louis XVI, was crippled by debt, with the aristocracy indulging in extravagant displays of wealth while the populace starved. The display of luxury and opulence became a symbol of a regime out of touch with its people, much like the luxury vehicles in Sri Lanka today, which have become symbols of a ruling class detached from the hardships of ordinary citizens. In France, satire and ridicule of the monarchy, particularly of Marie Antoinette and her infamous (and perhaps apocryphal) “Let them eat cake” remark, fuelled the public’s desire for change.
Yet, the French Revolution’s lesson is a sobering one. The overthrow of the monarchy did not lead to the utopia the revolutionaries had envisioned. Instead, France plunged into the Reign of Terror, where those who had risen against the monarchy began turning on each other. The power vacuum left by the monarchy’s fall was filled by radical factions, and the revolutionary government became increasingly authoritarian. In the end, the revolution paved the way for the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte, who established an empire that contradicted the very democratic ideals the revolution had espoused. France’s experience shows that overthrowing a corrupt and detached ruling class is not enough; what comes after is crucial to determining whether the outcome is freedom or further oppression.
Sri Lanka, with its deeply entrenched political families and longstanding corruption, risks following a similar path if the current calls for reform and minimalism do not materialise into genuine structural changes. The display of luxury, and the consequent ridicule of the ruling class, has fuelled public anger. Yet, anger alone, without a clear vision for the future, could plunge the country into a state of uncertainty. Like France, Sri Lanka could face the rise of radical factions or opportunistic leaders who capitalise on public discontent without offering genuine solutions.
The Russian Revolution of 1917 offers another cautionary tale. Like Sri Lanka today, pre-revolutionary Russia was plagued by a ruling elite disconnected from the suffering of the masses. Tsar Nicholas II’s regime was widely ridiculed for its incompetence, with figures like Rasputin symbolising the corruption and decay at the heart of the Russian state. When the Tsar was overthrown, the hope was that Russia would transition to a more democratic and egalitarian society. However, the reality was far different. The vacuum left by the fall of the monarchy led to a brutal civil war between the Red Army (Bolsheviks) and the White Army (anti-communists). In the end, the Bolsheviks emerged victorious, but at the cost of millions of lives and the imposition of a new authoritarian regime under Lenin, which later evolved into the totalitarian state of Stalin. The lesson from Russia is that while revolution and the ridicule of the ruling class can topple a regime, it is far more challenging to establish a stable, democratic alternative in its place.
Sri Lanka must be wary of this historical precedent. The discontent among the population, fuelled by economic hardships and the visible excesses of the ruling class, could lead to radical calls for change. Yet, if this change is not carefully managed, the country could descend into chaos. The overthrow of traditional political structures, without a clear and inclusive vision for the future, could lead to the rise of new forms of authoritarianism, or worse, a prolonged period of instability and violence. Sri Lanka’s political history, marked by civil war and ethnic tensions, makes this risk particularly acute.
The Chinese Revolution in 1911 also offers valuable insights. The Qing Dynasty, like Sri Lanka’s former political class, had become increasingly corrupt and out of touch with the needs of its people. Intellectuals and reformers mocked the traditional Confucian elite for their failure to modernise and address the pressing social and economic issues of the time. The revolution succeeded in overthrowing the Qing Dynasty, but the aftermath was a period of fragmentation and warlordism. Rather than achieving the stability and progress they had hoped for, China descended into decades of chaos, culminating in the rise of the Communist Party and the authoritarian rule of Mao Zedong.
The lesson from China is that while it is easy to ridicule and overthrow an outdated political system, building a new one is far more challenging. Sri Lanka’s political culture, deeply rooted in patronage and family-based power structures, may seem ripe for change. Yet, dismantling these structures without a clear alternative risks plunging the country into a period of fragmentation and instability. Just as China struggled with warlords, Sri Lanka could see the rise of competing political factions or regional power brokers, leading to further division rather than unity.
In more recent history, the fall of Saddam Hussein in Iraq provides another stark warning for Sri Lanka. Saddam’s regime, much like Sri Lanka’s former leaderships, were marked by alleged corruption, repression, and a wide gulf between the ruling class and the general population. When Saddam was overthrown in 2003, there was hope that Iraq would transition to a more democratic and prosperous future. However, the reality was far different. The power vacuum left by Saddam’s fall led to years of sectarian violence, the rise of extremist groups like ISIS, and the collapse of state institutions. Iraq’s descent into chaos shows that simply removing a corrupt regime does not automatically lead to stability or democracy. Without careful planning and institution-building, the aftermath of political change can be even worse than the regime that was overthrown.
Sri Lanka’s political goons and bootlickers, with their displays of luxury and excess, are courting a similar disaster. The public’s anger at the yesterday’s ruling class is palpable, and the calls for reform are growing louder. Yet, if Sri Lanka is to avoid the fate of Iraq, it must learn from history. Removing corrupt leaders is only the first step; what comes after is even more important. The country must focus on building strong, inclusive institutions that can withstand the pressures of political change. This means not just changing the faces in power but changing the structures that allow corruption and excess to thrive.
The Arab Spring, which began in 2010, also provides valuable lessons for Sri Lanka. In countries like Egypt, Libya, and Tunisia, long-standing dictators were overthrown by popular uprisings. The ruling goons and bootlickers in these countries had become symbols of corruption, repression, and excess, much like Sri Lanka’s current political class. The hope was that their removal would lead to democracy, freedom, and prosperity. Yet, the reality was far more complex. In Egypt, the military quickly reasserted control after the brief rule of the Muslim Brotherhood, leading to the reestablishment of authoritarian rule. In Libya, the fall of Muammar Gaddafi led to a prolonged civil war and the collapse of state institutions, turning the country into a failed state. Even in Tunisia, often seen as the success story of the Arab Spring, the country continues to struggle with political instability and economic challenges.
The Arab Spring’s lesson for Sri Lanka is clear: overthrowing a corrupt regime is not the end of the struggle, but the beginning. True reform requires more than just the removal of goons; it requires the building of strong, democratic institutions that can deliver justice, equality, and prosperity for all citizens. Sri Lanka must focus not just on removing corrupt politicians but on creating a political culture that values transparency, accountability, and public service.
Sri Lanka’s situation is unique in some ways, but it shares key characteristics with these historical examples. The widespread ridicule of traditional politicians, the extravagant displays of wealth by the ruling class, and the rising calls for minimalism and reform mirror the conditions that have led to revolutions and political upheavals in other countries. Yet, history teaches that such moments are fraught with danger. The public’s anger, while justified, must be channelled into constructive, long-term solutions rather than short-term, reactionary measures.
The key lesson Sri Lanka must learn is that genuine political reform cannot be achieved by simply replacing one set of goons with another. The country needs a fundamental restructuring of its political and economic systems, one that prioritises the needs of the people over the desires of the ruling class. This means not just ridding the country of corruption but creating institutions that can prevent its reemergence. It means fostering a political culture that values public service over personal gain and building an economy that works for all citizens, not just a privileged few.
Sri Lanka’s moment of political shift presents both a challenge and an opportunity. The anger and discontent among the population, fuelled by the extravagant displays of the ruling class, could easily lead to chaos and instability. Yet, if managed properly, it could also be the catalyst for genuine, lasting reform. To succeed, Sri Lanka must learn from the mistakes of the past and focus not just on overthrowing the old order but on building a new one that is just, democratic, and inclusive. The alternative is a repetition of history’s tragic cycles of revolution, repression, and failure.
